Darryl’s wife was perfect. Even lying in bed with designer sheets gathered under her delicate chin, she was everything he’d ever wanted. Her strawberry blond hair somehow managed to arrange itself artfully even in sleep, and then there was the promise of her cornflower blue eyes just under the delicate tracery of her lightly fluttering eyelids. He wanted to kiss her, but knew he’d wake her. She was a light sleeper.

She was dreaming. The slight movement underneath her eyelids gave her away. Looking in the mirror at his own balding, overweight reflection standing there in tattered boxer briefs, he couldn’t help but wonder who she dreamt about. Was it the waiter that poured her wine last week during their anniversary dinner? The prick had certainly smiled enough, while stealing glances into the tasteful expanse of her cleavage He’d thought no one noticed. She’d pretended not to, but her cleavage noticed and it had enough sense to blush. He’d known better than to mention it though. It would only start an argument.

So he’d been a little rough in bed that night. Well, more than a little, to tell the truth. In her perfection, she’d thought he was just being kinky and got carried away. She even admitted liking it later over breakfast going so far as to shake her bottom at him over his grits and eggs. She had spunk, make no mistake about it. He knew it was only a matter of time before she realized she could do better than his spreading middle and male-pattern baldness. She’d leave him and how close to perfect would he be then? He knew his place in the world. He’d heard it whispered behind his back often enough. He was the lucky stiff who’d married up. She’s with that? I know. Can you believe it?

To tell the truth he’d never really believed it himself. Some things were just too good to last. There was no other choice, so he held the pillow hard over her perfect face, while a single tear of relief wandered down his stubbled cheek. His perfect wife would be his forever.

Comments

The following comments are for "Perfect"by Bartleby

Murder
Well, you know I liked this. Nothing like a little murder to end a story.

Very cleanly written, with just enough to present the story but not too much to clutter it up (I guess that's what you have to do when writing flash). I liked this: "but her cleavage noticed and it had enough sense to blush." Funny.

Only two things to nitpick: 1)"He’d known better than to mention it though. It would only start an argument." To me, the 'It' at the beginning of the second sentence might be better replaced with something like 'Doing so' or 'Saying so'. 2)'To tell the truth' comes up twice. In something this short, it was repetitive. Maybe one of them could be replaced with 'Honestly'?

Other than that, I liked it. Sort of sad, and I didn't see the last paragraph coming. Good job. :)

Comments
Elphaba, you mean lady. Giving away the ending in the first line?

Bartleby, I thought this was a good piece of flash fiction. I liked the way you followed his internal logic from its beginning to its conclusion, and the way you portrayed his insecurities. One section caught me.

"The prick had certainly smiled enough, while stealing glances into the tasteful expanse of her cleavage He’d thought no one noticed. She’d pretended not to, but her cleavage noticed and it had enough sense to blush."
Two things. There's no period after "cleavage", which is kinda funny, since the He makes him godly. And the phrase "her cleavage noticed" just seemed a little weird.

odd one out
I guess I'm the odd one out on this one. I liked it...but I don't think it really flourishes the way most of your writing does. I usually feel transfixed by your words but not here. Somehow...I saw some of this coming, and I felt that the last paragraph was a bit...overdone for your writing. It was great up until that last paragraph. Sorry to be a bit harsh, but I know I've seen you do far better. =D

Simple and Telling
I liked this bit of fiction a lot, Bartelby, and since you're readying it for publication, wanted to throw in my 2 cents.

The blushing cleavage made sense to me (I thought it was a clever allusion). I also liked the suddent twist at the end. The only flaw I saw was in the tear streaking down his stubbled face, as I thought this was a bit overly-dramatic. Couldn't you allude to his regret in some other way? What if his shoulders shook in a way which could have been silent laughter or stifled sobs, and even he couldn't tell the difference? Or something? Maybe that's overly-dramatic as well.

Overall, a classic yarn. Reminds me of Hawthorn's short story "The Faerie's Handprint".

ark and hazel
Since you ladies both gave such helpful and insightful comments, may I direct you to an older bit of flash that I feel has some promise but was likely posted before either of you were regular on the site. It's entitled Barfly and has been rejected once, but I was given encouraging comments by the editor of the publication that said it had been a close call. Just thought I'd ask for help while I'm feeling motivated towards submissions.

Thanks so much for reading and taking the time to give real constructive feedback.

%$^&$@Q!
Bart, I didn't see it comming. I'm still horrified. To me it's a bit unreal, like some unimaginable headline news. My only complaint is the constraint of the flash fiction format didn't allow for the development of the male character, but that's only 'cause I know your talent for personality. If ever you rewrote as a short, or even a longer flash, that's what I'd want to see.